


Nogitsune

by Lainie (mislainieous)



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Kitsune, M/M, Other, Warning: Aki's tail ain't the only fluff in here, non-canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-08-16 21:57:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16503449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mislainieous/pseuds/Lainie
Summary: This story's for Nethvester, who, once I let slip that my story kinda paralleled "Missing Pieces", graciously asked me to post it anyhow. Thanks, hon!I had planned on posting this on Hallowe'en, however, "...the best laid plans of Mice and Men..." struck again when I was rudely interrupted by an unexpected funeral. Curse you, RL!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nethvester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nethvester/gifts).



> This story's for Nethvester, who, once I let slip that my story kinda paralleled "Missing Pieces", graciously asked me to post it anyhow. Thanks, hon!
> 
> I had planned on posting this on Hallowe'en, however, "...the best laid plans of Mice and Men..." struck again when I was rudely interrupted by an unexpected funeral. Curse you, RL!

 

Asami hadn’t even been aware of what was happening, just going about his business and taking a call as usual, when he twisted aside instinctively upon hearing an odd noise behind him. As he was held back and bodily shielded by Suoh, his second in command Kirishima carefully advanced on the figure slumped to the sidewalk a few metres away from them and kicked a throwaway small caliber handgun back towards the security team now surrounding their boss. The big blond stepped forward to scan the area in front of the building they were exiting, gun at the ready. The scant traffic at this time in the morning apparently hadn’t noticed anything untoward, and any pedestrians were few and far between. Scanning the rooftops across from the group as other team members did the same with the one at their backs, no sign of movement or unusual profiles were to be seen. The same could be said for the shadowed areas in the alleys, doorways and between the pools of street light on the sidewalk that lead away in either direction.

With Suoh covering him, Kirishima knelt down on one knee as he slid his secured handgun into his coat pocket and efficiently frisked the groaning shape before him. Besides the gun, he found a switchblade knife secreted away in one pocket and a heavier, larger one in the other. Once both men agreed it was safe, Suoh took the weapons and secured them in one of the empty briefcases the men always carried to these meetings held away from headquarters or the Sion nightclub. The assailant was roughly pulled upright and detained by more men swarming out of cars that were suddenly there. Kirishima went back to check on the leader of Sion, taking it as a sign that all was well when he finally finished his call without even sounding put out. The dazed man was hustled away into a waiting vehicle as Suoh came over, just finishing a call of his own. Kirishima listened in while firing off messages on his phone to various people and groups in departments, wanting report updates as soon as they came in.

Asami, meanwhile, looked on as if this was just another training exercise on an average early Thursday morning. Straightening his tie and giving his suit a perfunctory dust off with his hand, he coolly listened to his Chief of Security give a brief report on the failed attacker’s condition, about the lack of intel on any current “hits” out on the head of Sion, and how the other now-suspect parties that he had been meeting with tonight had left the area without any signs of duplicity or deviations. Kirishima added, as he typed away on his phone screen keypad, that other than the foiled attack itself, and the perpetrator in their custody, nothing seemed to be amiss. After a cursory look at what they had, there were no yakuza or Clan tattoos immediately visible on the man, nor any identifying markings to be found on the knives or the handgun. In fact, the only thing out of place, other than the whole situation to begin with, was the fact that a hard white ball, about the size and weight of a snooker cue ball, was found on the ground near the assailant, and he had a bloody mark on the side of his head where it looked like the ball had hit him after being thrown with some force.

It was a good thing that both Kirishima and Suoh had, out of habit, taken separate pictures on their phones of the scene, to prove that there indeed had been any kind of ball present, as it was not found on the attacker’s person, or in any of the “evidence” cases later.

 

o___ 

 

A second attempt happened several weeks on, after one of those periodic “take a glamorous woman out to dinner so the media can speculate about what it all might mean” affairs. His “date” for the evening had been able to hold a decent conversation, yet knew when it was appropriate to stay quiet; and was rather fetching in her outfit and accoutrements, makeup and perfume subtly applied. Most importantly, she hadn’t tried to flirt with him, and had kept her hands to herself. That type of professionalism he could not only appreciate, but could utilize again at some future benefit or fundraiser to keep circling fawners at bay.

They had just made themselves comfortable in the limousine, Asami about to offer the escort her drink when his seldom quiet phone once again vibrated. Mentally sighing, he took the call, blanking out distractions. After he had slid his phone back into his inside jacket pocket, he picked up both drinks, and went to hand the lady hers as he told her that he had to return to Sion unexpectedly, so once he had departed, the limo was at her disposal as to where she wished to go. Seeing a somewhat displeased look slide across her face, he smirked inside, imaging what she had been hoping for.

Instead, as his left hand held her drink out for her, she thrust toward him, right arm out, as straight as the knife in her grip. Dropping both drinks to clear his hands, Asami diverted the knife aimed at his chest to the leather back of their seat by closing his hand over hers and twisting her wrist under while squeezing hard on her bones. As the knife dropped, her leg came up and shot out at his face. His right arm curled around it and drew it also to the back of the seat, turning the powerful kick more into pushing his face aside and away from her. Her other foot, however, delivered a solid blow to his sternum, causing him to release her as he instinctively curled his arms in to protect his front. Taking advantage of that, she kicked off her slingback heels and pushed back against the door, pulling on the handle, and fell backward out of the vehicle, twisting herself around before landing on her feet and taking off at a full sprint. Suoh, seeing the passenger door fly open and something fall out in the side mirror, barked at Kirishima to stop as he shoved his own door open and left the slowing limo.

Once stopped, the Administrative Assistant checked on his friend and employer’s wellbeing as a trailing car with their men pulled up and guards spilled out, surrounding the larger vehicle. Asami watched from the open car door through a slit between his security net as Suoh and another guard ran after the woman, even though she had a head start and seemed like she was pulling away from them, when something the size of a very large house cat ran out in front of her and made her trip in mid stride. Tumbling hard, she was on the pavement when Suoh reached her and pulled her up one-handed until her feet were dangling off the street. The big man shoved his face towards her and gave her a violent shake before roughly casting her aside, handing her off to several of their men that had just arrived.

Calling Kirishima, he was relieved when he heard Asami-sama was fine, aside from a few bruises to the chest and ego. Thinking to himself that that had been the closest attempt yet on the Boss’ life, he was distracted by a surprised shout. Looking at one of their men pointing up the street, Souh managed to catch sight of what he was singling out:  a small white ball, rolling up against the street’s incline, then curving around a corner before it disappeared from sight.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, those who know me, know I just can't leave well enough alone. So here, thanks to my little buddy Heth, are some art pieces that I've found while skulking around on Pinterest. They belong to Culpeo-Fox, Skia and others, and hopefully they don't mind enhancing my story. Cheers!

 

It had been almost four weeks since the last attempt had been made on his life. The would-be assassins, knowing whom they were targeting, had both given up information quickly on who had contracted them, wanting to spare themselves as much “difficulty” as they could in transitioning from this life to the next, client confidentiality be damned. This was Asami Ryuichi of Sion, after all.

  
In those weeks, scheduled rotations for up-training had been conceived, implemented, then put into action, the whole Sion security division going through the training period from the top down: Asami, Kirishima and Suoh all participating in separate rounds of skill upgrades alongside a mix of everyone from night shift guards in Sion’s parking garage to the cyber security teams supervisors who monitored the company IT techs. Even the frontline guardians of the building entrances were expected to be in attendance, period.

  
It got to be that any security and/or surveillance needed in any position within the team could be interchanged without the slightest ripple being felt, and no one on the outside was the wiser. In fact, when possible threats were detected early and alternate plans were successfully implemented on the fly, bonuses and team-wide rewards were the new norm. One such bonus happened because the Boss himself had detected, lured in and apprehended a pickpocket that had him pegged as an easy mark due of the expensive status symbol phone that seemed attached to his ear.

  
In fact, Asami had successfully translated from taking every call, any time, to only taking calls in designated “safe” locations, like his limo, his office or the penthouse. Any other life or death calls were now taken by a pair of overlapping assistants that Kirishima had hired from within the company just to catalogue, categorize and prioritize the messages and expected response time required for each one. This system was working out so well, in fact, that Asami would actually take the free time now available to him on his travels to observe the world outside around him, which is how he spotted the pickpocket working a bus stop by an exclusive coffee shop.

  
After having his fun and thoroughly convincing the snot that he’d targeted the Devil Himself, the shaking high school brat had quickly spilled both his motive and his bladder, (he’d ditched the cram school that his single father was working two jobs to pay for to steal enough odds ‘n’ sods to buy new games and some goodies to get high on), the Sion boys scared the kid straighter than any legitimate at-risk youth diversion program ever could. In return, Asami had decided, as his treat, that the parts of the team that was either off duty or with him tonight would enjoy a night at one of his clubs, closed as a their private playground for the evening, then the security working tonight would be relieved so they could enjoy tomorrow night also.

  
As the liquor flowed and the food was consumed, Kirishima and Suoh went to mix with the revelers, paying attention to any comments, complaints or suggestions made by their employees, no matter how inebriated they were, in that time-honored tradition of Japanese business, the _nomikai_ : a “no harm, no foul” attitude taken to anything said by employees after work hours, as there could often be truth found in alcohol. Anything of interest from individuals or groups was noted afterwards on one of their phones and would be discussed at another time by the three top men. Meanwhile, Asami himself only drank minimally and was seen but not approached, as frankly, none of the personnel there was feeling THAT drunk or THAT willing to push their luck.

  
Once the main party was over, the men thanked their Boss and supervisors, and headed out for _nijikai_ (“afterparty”) in smaller groups and pairs. Asami was having a smoke and enjoying his last whiskey, checking out any text messages that had come through recently, when a report was messaged to Suoh from the pair sent to get the limo that a slender youth, late teens to early twenties, had been observed across from the club and down the street a bit, wearing jeans and a nondescript sweat shirt with the hood up over his head. Tossing something that resembled a white cue ball up and down in the air, out after any and all curfews, apparently just waiting. Asami gave both of his long-time friends and colleges a meaningful look as he finished his drink, checked his hand gun, and got up to leave.

  
Stepping out of the front doors of his club, he took several steps away from Suoh and Kirishima as he lit up a Dunhill and briefly looked around after his first puff. Sure enough, there was the person in question, presumably, a little closer to the club then described but still on the other side of the street. Turning sideways so only his profile was presented (making him a smaller targert), he gave some discreet hand signals to his two main men and let them plan their attack as he turned back towards the street slightly and saw the target had come closer again.

  
This was surely the longest Asami had ever taken to smoke a cigarette, taking a puff, casually looking around, just to see that he was apparently playing a game of “red light, green light” with the kid as the distance between was definitely shrinking, but he didn’t actually see any movement from his opponent other than the tossing of the ball. This was another question for him all by itself. Such an interesting choice of weapon, handled with ease and skill from long familiarity of use; did it have any kind of significance, or was it taken up on some kind of whim. Did this person seek to help him from some personal mission, or did they do it on orders. Asami didn’t really care; to him, it was just one more thing to find out when they had the kid in custody. Speaking of which, Suoh and Kirishima had melted into the shadows gathered among the building fronts around him, to be replaced by a pair of other guards that resembled their body types close enough, if one wasn’t so observant.

  
Which the hooded person across the way apparently was, judging by the sudden alert stance, then reversing their direction and heading back down the sidewalk the way they came. When Asami saw a large hulk of a form appear in front of the retreating figure while a somewhat smaller but equally imposing one stepped out of a doorway it had just passed to cut off an escape route, Asami briefly smirked, assuming he’d won yet again. What he saw, however, quickly had him changing his mind. Not bothering to stop, the hooded figure spun about as the white ball disappeared from sight. Taking a quick step up to man blocking the path from behind, without any warning the mystery person lashed out a glancing kick to Kirishima’s shin then grasped the surprised man above the elbows, pulled him in close as they spun about with Kie still in tow and off balance, and shoved him hard into a quickly advancing Suoh that was coming to his friend’s aid. Both men were knocked back with the surprise impact, becoming entangled and out of sorts at the sudden reversal of roles, and even as Asami barked a command to the guards with him and lost the cigarette, he could see the mystery person slip past his men and start to make haste in his getaway. As two other Sion security pairs closed in, the kid came to a hidden alley entrance and ducked into it.

  
Five long, fast strides had Asami across the street and coming up to his best men. Without his slowing, they fell in with their boss and gave the only sit rep (situation report) they could: the person in question was definitely male, agile, had some self-protection training, and was not shy about using it. As they came to the alley, the other guards waiting there spread out behind them, blocking off that escape route. As they took a moment to survey their surroundings, they could see the blind alley was formed by a side of a five or six story building on both sides coming up against the back wall of a building facing the next street over. There were no fire escapes, no doorways, window ledges or frames on any of the three walls, and no pipes or utility ladders leading up to any of the rooftops. Nothing on ground level to hide behind, no deep shadows in which to conceal oneself in, no city drain grates to pull up and disappear down. And no kid in sight.

  
Now vexed and stymied, two conditions the top men of Sion Corp. were not used to putting up with, Kirishima got on his phone as Suoh went out to the street to wait for more men to arrive for a very thorough search of the area. Asami, meanwhile, stood protected by his security and slightly frowned as he puzzled his way through this conundrum. Coming up again and again with the same conclusion, he was already looking to the roofline when a shrill whistle was heard. All eyes zeroed in on the boy in the hoodie sitting on the building parapet, one leg dangling over the side, above their heads. After several surprised curses from stumbling men at the back of the pack, the now-infamous white ball could been seen zigzagging between feet as it rolled its way to the front of the gathered men, then went straight at the wall the boy was sitting on, up the flat surface, and was over the top in an instant. The boy gave a jaunty salute, slid his leg over the top of the wall, and was gone. Asami gave a shake of his head in quiet appreciation of the stunt as silence gave way to shouts and chaotic movement around him. Catching first Kei’s eye, then Kazumi’s, all three of them now knew this situation was not only far from the ordinary, but needed very careful analysis and planning to see their way through it.

 

                                     


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers, sorry for the wait, but once again, RL sucked The Big One. Now, I have a question: many of you who read this story also read one that I've taken over writing called "Blood Moon". Some of you have expressed you enjoy the art that I include at the end of these chapters, and I wondered how many of you would also like some wolf-related art added to that fic. Please let me know, as I've already got some pics lined up to add if there's enough interest. Thanks.

Aki walked down the sidewalks of Shinjuku with a jaunty stride, "footloose and fancy free" as the old saying went. It was cool out, with both Christmas and the New Year already several weeks in the past. What little snow flurries there had been were over now, the sunny days were sweater weather, depending on the wind of course, and the nights were above freezing, so a couple of layers of clothes would do. He'd had some tasty inarizushi that had been left as an offereing at the shrine not so long ago (the _kitsune_ fox statue wouldn't mind), and then had helped himself to some free wine samples from the store at the Shinagawa Train Station on the way to catch the train out here.

He was in the mood to lose the blues that had been dogging his tail for awhile, ( _definitely 'cuz it was the winter blahs,_ **not** _'cuz ASSHOLE! had decided to get cute and try and corner him, and he'd had to get away from that prick supremo and his gophers [_ as in "You there! Go for this! Go for that!"] heh), and while he wanted a good time, he didn't feel like getting oggled, felt up and hit on like he would in Kabukichō, though the gods knew he could use the free drinks that entailed. And he didn't wanna go clubbing cuz (a) it seemed like too much of a hassle to slip in, and (b) that dickhead was a club owner, so he didn't wanna even think about it. Instead, he was going to Golden Gai.

Ah, Golden Gai: a scruffy little collection of six or so alleys that had tiny bars and mini eatting spots crammed in on top of each other, cheek-by-jowl. Music, drinks and good vibes in some spaces too small to have more than a small serving bar and a half dozen people in them at one time, staff included. Some were locals only, some had cover charges, some were "come as you are", whether that meant media stars in fancy threads in their off time or college students in bath robes and shower slippers. The promise of loud music, neon, brightly decorated doorways, glorified ladders leading to second story hole-in-the-wall dives, steps leading below the streets to who knew what hidden basement places, and swarms of people all night long. It was after 9 p.m. when most of the places started to even open for business, and there was just too much to see and explore in a couple of hours before the sun started to come up in such a tiny piece of the megalopolis. He liked to think of it as his own private Mos Eisly spaceport of sorts, and he was totally psyched to go back, explore some more, and forget.

He was so ready to forget, in fact, that when he stepped out of the shadows between two buildings and looked up to check his landmarks, he completely stopped and gawked. No. This wasn't right. This isn't where he wanted to be. No. No. NO. Fuck! Fuck a duck!! Shit fuck! Dammit. What the fuck? He walked into the pedestrian shelter where the bus stopped half a block away from where he _didn't_  want to be and sat down to clear out his mind. Head in hands, he mentally retraced his steps from the train station over here, and came to the logical conclusion that he shouldn't be anywhere the fuck near here. But there he was. Huffing, he looked down the block and saw the stylish front doors to the monolith he loathed right. there. He didn't want to be here. He could care less whether or not that dickwad was up there right now. No interest; nope, none whatsoever. ...except that even as he was telling himself that, he _knew_ the man was up there, right now. Even as his hazel green eyes were tracing their way up the building in question to the top floor where he could see from his vantage point that the office lights were still on. He huffed again. Fine. If he was going up there for a look-see, he was going to drink some of the asshole's booze then. Standing up, he shook his head before he set off to trespass, break and enter. Fuck humans. And fuck himself, too, for being an idiot.

When he arrived at the top floor a little while later, he'd worked up a thirst. For some ridiculously overpriced alcohol, that is . But that didn't mean he was going to just blunder willy-nilly into the viper's nest. He listened carefully, stilled his breathing, flicking his ears back and forth, waiting for the least little thing to make his whiskers twitch. Not wanting to stir from his hiding spot until the energy saver program automatically came on after all movement on the open floor had ceased for a certain amount of time and switched all the ceiling lights off. Even then, he still waited a while, ready to disappear if the tap in the kitchen area dripped the wrong way.

Finally deciding it was safe to think about coming out, he deployed his trusty little buddy to have a mouse-eye view of things and sent his sphere off for a tour around the outer office near the elevator. Once it puttered about for a bit without setting off any alarms or surprised voices, he called it back to him and slipped out of the shadow cast from an open door along the hall that lead to lair of the Final Boss. Going past the big man's office door, he followed the hallway to the end. There, he was pleased to see it ended in an alcove of windows. On another story, this might have been an office or a small meeting room, but due to this floor being stepped back away from the edge of the rest of the building's floor plan, it framed a nice view of Mount Fuji, the planet Venus setting on late winter mornings, and long summer sunsets. And best of all, there was only one fixture in there that left a single pool of light on in there.

Heading back to the Office of Doom, he put his ear to the door and listened intently before he got up on his hind legs, jumped up a bit to grasp the door knob between his paws, dropped one shoulder to turn it, then pushed with his tippy toes to open the solid wood door slightly before dropping back on all fours and slipping inside.

He stopped stock still at the sight before him: at the far end of the room was the massive power desk, behind it was the comfortable leather throne from which the Sion empire was ruled. Flanking it was a huge set of floor to ceiling windows with the stellar night view of Shinjuku and Tokyo at large. Before the desk were several chairs for doing quick business and not so VIP visitors, then further back near where Aki was, was an ensemble of a leather couch, chairs and a love seat situated around a large coffee table. And on the couch was the man himself.

From the looks of things, he had stayed late to work on something for probably several nights in a row, then fixed himself a drink and sat down to relax with it, and drifted off from exhaustion. And oh, gods, that face was haunting, even in sleep. That mouth that seldom seemed to relax into anything but a smirk was softened now, and even the styled hair was chill, slightly tousled, a few strands dropping across the eyebrows. And those golden eyes that had caught his attention in the first place were blessedly closed, so he'd be able to at least breathe without being transfixed by them, like a cobra and its petrified prey. Aki sighed as he shook his head at his own stupidity. How many times would he fall for the same old shit? A human had brought him here, far from home, another had trapped him here in this anthill of humanity, and now a third was threatening to lead him astray from finding a way back. And all because those eyes had ensnared him at first glance from passing by on the street. Those eyes that had both stirred up his homesickness and gave him feelings of lost comfort, all at the same time. Ugh, he really hated his dumbass self.

Meanwhile, he was still standing there like a dork, burning nighttime, doing nothing but mooning over some guy. No creative mayhem, and especially, not drinking. What was he doing?! Damn. He was losing it, that's what. Not all his marbles were gone yet, but there certainly was a hole in the bag somewhere. Grumping away at himself, he headed further into the office, avoiding the couch area like it had a plague of fleas.

~xoxoxoxox~

Next morning, Kirishima Kei came in extra early, as this and other "special" days warranted, to try and dissuade as many tokens of romantic feelings as he could from being bestowed on his unappreciative friend. While he and Suoh had no qualms about accepting sweets and gifts on behalf of their boss, enjoying them themselves and passing them around the upper management and staff of both sides of the business, but after the third desktop full of the stuff it got rather annoying. And the most annoying part of it was, it never. fricking. ended. Men. Women. Trans. Neutrals. Whatevers. All the time. Swooning over Ryuichi, then refocusing on either one of them once they were rejected, as if their exclusive access to him made them stupid to other's manipulations. Were there nothing but maladroits left anymore? If someone wanted to get the boss' attention, their only hope was to get original. His normal poker face slipped momentarily as he sighed with lemony exasperation as he got off on the top floor, put away his coat and started up his computer and routine security checks. And hiding nude in the back of the limo was NOT original anymore. Glancing at the screen, his attention was directed to certain camera screens. It looked like Ryuichi had stayed late again last night, probably overnight from the number of times the cameras in his office were triggered. But, then, it also looked like other movements had triggered other cameras in other parts of the outer office as well. So, either the Dragon of Tokyo had started to sleep walk due a guilty conscience, or something else had been going on here last night.

A little while later, after he'd cautiously roused his armed, sleeping boss and alerted Kazumi that something was up, the three men sat in Asami's office, glued to the laptop screen set up on the coffee table. There, the evidence unraveled before them: the ball making an appearance as it swept the outer floor, then a full grown fox creeping out of a shadow that wouldn't successfully hide a mouse, then the fox scouting out the hallway outside before it stopped at the CEO's door and let itself in. From there, the office camera showed the fox seemingly frozen as it looked at the sleeping beauty on the couch before it padded further into the office. The picture then showed the fox leaving one camera's field of view and a young man, early twenties, wearing a hoodie sweater, (hood up), and well-worn jeans came into another camer's sight a split second later as he jumed up to seat himself on the minibar and picked through the selection of drinks, pulling the stopper off to sniff the various bottled contents then slapping it back on again in distaste. Asami chuckled to see this done a couple of times before the bottle of francellico was decided upon. He'd only had that liqueur in the office as a concession to a European company on a business venture here whose lead negotiator had preferred it in her coffee. It was sweet and flavoured with hazelnut. Of all the expensive aged hard liquors in that bar, Asami was amused that the boy would go for such a light, "feminine" drink. 

After a few swallows, the boy seemed to relax, jumping off the bar to wander over to the desk to take a nose about with the bottle still in hand. Taking turns sipping and poking around, the boy then turned back to the figure on the couch. Still slumped back against the cushion while the head leaned forward, supported by the hand whose arm was wedged against a knee of the elegantly crossed legs. Wobbling a little where he stood, the boy scratched his head and moved the hood askew somewhat, allowing the tip of a nose and some fair stray strands of hair to poke out. The boy carefully worked his way over to the coffee table and, after a failed attempt or two, managed to lift a knee high enough to rest it on the table, then manuvered himself to sit cross-legged on the table top, staring at the man across from him as the bottle lay all but forgotten in his hand.

Finally stirring himself, the boy abandoned the bottle on its side as he shakily got up, hovered over the still sleeping Asami, then bent and slowly, gently rearranged the man's arms and legs, carefully swivelled him around some that he could then delicately lift the long legs onto the seat of the couch so that the older man was laying down, legs bent, on his side while his head was resting on the armrest. Then the boy carefully removed the high end footwear and placed them neatly on the floor. Getting back up, the boy stopped and seemed to sniff the air for a moment, then made a slow, wide circle to turn himself around and headed out the office door on an unsteady course. Before the system could switch over to the outer office camera, the boy was back, light hair sticking out even more, hood hanging half off his head, both arms full.

First the blond quietly dropped something onto the table, then gently shook out a long dark overcoat and flipped it up and over the sleeping figure, nearly tipping over as the coat settled over the man. The boy bent over to pick up whatever he'd dropped, then carefully navigated his way back to the desk. Setting it down on top, the boy braced himself upright on his arms as he seemed to be reading something and flipping pages over. All three men stiffened at that, not wanting any of Sion's many secrets to be perused by an outsider. Just as Suoh and Kirishima pulled out their phones, though, the men saw the bent over figure straighten up, look over at the man on the couch, then glance up at the camera facing the desk and make a face like he was tsking in disgust as he shook his head, making himself slightly unbalanced. Reaching back to sweep up to sheets into something and pick up what could only be a file folder. Grinning a wicked grin, the boy tapped it against the temple of his forehead and made his unsteady way with it behind the desk, where he seemed to kneel down and disappeared. There was several minutes of nothing more, then the fox reappeared from behind the desk, weaving slightly as if it wasn't quite used to where all the legs went, but the big bushy tail was at full mast and a happy fox grin was on its face nonetheless. After it wormed its way out through the door, the hallway camera didn't show it going to the outer office floor, then turned itself off after no further movement was registered. Looking between themselves, the men took a few moments to digest and analyze what exactly they had seen. In the quiet office atmosphere, a ...pungent... odour made its presence known. Three pairs of eyebrows went up, then the men got up as one, and followed its chem trail back behind the desk. There, between the foot space under the desk and the chair, on the exclusive, thick, luxuriously expensive carpet, lay the file folder with a little something extra added. On the cover was the title "Kitsune and Nogitsune", as Kei had prepared it, and beneath that was a freeform sprayed heart that smelled very strongly of what was likely fox piss. Suoh was laughing hard as Asami had an amused gleam in his eyes and a scheming look on his face. Kirishima closed his eyes as, despite himself, he felt his own lips twitch. Well, shit. Now that was a original Valentine's Day gift, and Asami's interest had decidedly been piqued.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

It was almost a month before the surveillance department at Sion happened upon a website that tracked urban wildlife within Tokyo. Someone's kid had been watched a program about how, in the U.S., the ability to watch local wildlife live over the Internet by urban residents had helped increase the support of numerous conservation efforts. After some research, it turned out that a similar biodiversity study in Japan was published through Yokohama National University*, and the researchers had done a survey of medium to large-sized native animals within the greater metropolitan Tokyo area. Survey grids had been set up in the Tama Hills and on the Boso Peninsula areas, and 12 to 16 camera-trap sites were set up in each zone. After the study was done those cameras came down, but other, private cameras soon went up in different districts. Larger parks, zoos, campuses and botanical gardens outside of the downtown core had their own live feed web sites which started showing an amazing array of unimagined wildlife at any time of day. Including red foxes.

Once the video feeds were vetted specifically for foxes, social media came into play for neighbourhood sightings and tips on where and when were the best times for watching these clever critters. Which lead to Sion teams staking out some of these "hot spots" with night vision goggles and high powered binoculars. After several false starts with misidentified stray Shiba Inu dogs, (a few of which ended up finding good homes with team members; chalked up to "occupational hazard"), some "information forums" were held and protocol refinements were made.

It was in the days leading up to White Day that Kirishima was alerted to a very promising prospect by one of the teams: a group had checked out a site close to the Shinagawa Train Station, and after several nights surveilling along a two block area of Daiichikeichin Avenue, they determined that the small Edo era Takayama Inari-jinja Shrine, tucked away among all the modern office buildings and luxury residential high rises, seemed to be the centre of the sightings. Close at hand were large parks with natural cover in their traditional Japanese gardens and a water supply with the koi ponds, with various food sources like restaurants, convenience shops and take out food joints. All in Minato Ward, within a 30 minute walk from Asami's own penthouse, in fact. Or even, say, about 15 minutes, as the fox trots; no doubt this would be of interest to both his friend and boss.

What made Kei and Kazumi decide to bring the report to The Big Boss Man was the photographs. Just two of them, crisp, clear, and indisputable: one of a fox leaving through the closed shrine gates, easily squeezing through the bars on their upper half without stopping, the other one taken hours later that same night when a certain familiar grey hoodie sweater and jean-clad young man was seen walking down the deserted sidewalk with a bag of take out food in hand, and without effort, or breaking his stride, he swung himself up and over the stone wall in front of the shrine, bag in his mouth. That was all Asami needed to see to make plans the next night for a much anticipated rendezvous.

 

***************

 

Aki was sauntering back towards the shrine after a good night out, hood down, pieces of blond hair lifting in the sparse traffic's breeze. He'd managed to catch a nice fat koi fish for dinner at the pond he'd stopped at for some water, then a couple of young ladies he'd met in the area had invited him along for a night of clubbing and had shared with him with some appetizers and a pitcher of beer so they could say at work the next morning that they'd at least spent White Day out with a guy. Unfortunately, it had been rather slim pickings scrouging for a meal on the way back home, but, at least he wasn't starving.

But, maybe the night wasn't over yet. The Obvious Menacing Black Surveillance Car was gone, and in its place was a somewhat more subtle dark coloured Beamer. It looked like a sweet ride, regardless of the second one parked further down in the shadows between the street lights. He'd bet his ball that the Opposite Twins that tried to crowd him when he thought to approach That Man were tagging along in it, but that wasn't what held his attention. No, right now, chills were running riot all over his skin as the dimmed interior light of the first Beamer came on with the door opening, and he could see that breathtaking face with those frickin' golden eyes watching him. About damned time. He didn't know if he'd _EVER_ worn the same outfit so many times in a row, waiting for someone to catch on. And yes, all of a sudden,he really was just itching for trouble.

He stopped some metres away from the gates, about equidistant from where the car was parked from them. He stayed put, figurative whiskers all a-twitch, waiting to see the man's next move. Which, apparently, was what his person of interest was doing right now. As in _not_ moving. Did he think someone like a nogitsune was just going to prance up to him, tail a-wagging, then sit at his feet and beg for his attention? Screw that. If that human was waiting for him to move first, then he'd better be wearing comfortable shoes, 'cuz this fox had out-stubborned cats before to get a meal, so one VIP businessman wasn't going to be a problem.

So, over the next hour or so, it was move and counter move on that tense chessboard of a sidewalk. Asami settled on his heels, shoulders back, confident and willing to wait. Aki answered with his own relaxed posture and arms crossed, perhaps hinting at annoyance to this waste of his precious time. A little while later, Asami replied to this move by lighting up a cigarette and enjoying a languid smoke. Aki's answer was a bored look and blowing his bangs off his face. When Asami finished his smoke and crushed the butt with his expensive leather shoe sole before sliding his hands into his pants pockets, Aki retaliated by cocking a hip in one direction and his head in the other. This stalemate in their battle of wills, with all the spine-tingling suspense of a preschoolers first baseball game, was finally broken when the big man unbuttoned his suit jacket, turned back to the car, opened the door and stepped in. A moment later, the big V8 under the hood roared to life, and after revving the engine in preparation to peel out of its parking place and barrel down the street with as much noise and fury as possible, the classy vehicle merely coasted forward to quietly stop in front of the gates. Aki face palmed himself and shook his head, thinking that this human in question must be blessed to have crazy talented and loyal people willing to work for him, because otherwise he was too big an idiot to be so rich.

Asami sat in his car after shutting off the engine, decidedly enjoying the stubborn little thing's reaction. He may not have won that encounter by having the boy/spirit/whatever come over to him, giving him nominal dominance in their meeting, but he certainly didn't lose any face either as he didn't have to approach it on foot. Still shaking his head in disbelief, the blond ambled forward enough to get to the gate, but not one speck of dirt further. As the window on the car noiselessly lowered, he stuck his hands in the sweater pocket and drawled "Really. You started your car up to move. two. car legnths. Two." he sighed, as if somehow, he had expected better of the man. "Sorry, I forgot. Spoiled old rich folk aren't used to just standing around so much. At least, not without some champagne in hand", clearly pronouncinging the small "c" ascribed to "sparkling white wine" that some _nouveau riche_ tried to pass off instead of serving the Real Deal. A finely scultped raised eyebrow was the only droll response he got. Hmph. "So. what's up."

"I came to offer my personal thanks for taking an interest." Well, whoop-dee-doo and la-dee-da. Yeah, not needed, no thanks. Pulling a hand out out of the pocket, the boy waived it off, and with a shake his head, said "domo domo" ["no problem", "no need"] in response. Feeling a bit awkward and somewhat disappointed with the way this situation was heading, he took a step back towards the gate with a muttered "Well, if that's all, them...", seeking to make a hasty retreat before either the man started the inevitable "protect me and I'll give you whatever you want" shtick, or, even worse, offer up his undying gratitude and worship. Ew.

"It's just that, in my world," the man continued, as if not interrupted. "people that do such a favour want something in return". Aki stopped and huffed, not happy. Now THAT was getting pretty close to insulting, right there. Time to remind the man who he was dealing with.

“Did you just try to compare me to the Humans you resort to dealing with?" Asami gave a rather smug look. "Not at all. For one thing, none of the people I have dealings with have ever given me such a ...personal?... Valentine gift." Oh. Yeah. Right.

Colouring in the cheeks enough that Aki was sure it glowed in the dark, he hung his shaggy head slightly and wished the sidewalk would just open up beneath him and let him drop out of sight. "Well, I had to pay for the drinks somehow...", he mumbled lamely, thoroughly embarrassed. Asami looked on, bemused. This spirit, or whatever it was, definitely wasn't what he thought it would be. Unfortunately, his businesses wouldn't stand still, even for a single night. If he played his cards right, though, further pursuit might be had for another time.

"Well, be that as it may, I dropped by to offer you my White Day gift in return." Instant outrage wiped all shyness off that expressive, youthful face. "Hey! Do I look like some chick to you!" he yelled, not caring about the noise, the neighbourhood nor the hour.

"Not in the least." Asami grinned behind some fingers curled over his mouth, enjoying this meeting more than he though he might. "I just thought to bring you a small token of my appreciation for all you've done for me." That scowl was just as enticing as the rest. Very few had ever even thought of talking to him like that, and certainly not while presenting him with such an appetizing package. And the fact that this "boy" was as untouchable as he wanted to be made for a irresistible combination. The man decided that he'd be back for more of that sass, and soon. "Well then. I thought the least I could do is offer you a nice dinner and dessert on this special evening. And, of course, something to enjoy along with the meal, as well..." That was all it took to get Aki's interest and/or possible forgiveness.

Edging infintesimally closer to the vehicle, the fox spirit covertly scented the air (no need to be outright rude), instantly fighting himself not to start quivering with desire as the glorious aromas of spicy red miso ramen, tako yaki with dipping sauce and kupe mayo, and (he quietly gasped). And... was that...? Sapporo Premium beer cans?! Oh gods above, he was in love!... with the meal. The company it kept, ...eh...

"Would you like to take a seat with me in here to enjoy some music with the our meal?" the man's voice snapped him out of his food-gasm. The spirit's answer was to shoot him a look of "how fuckin' stupid do you think I am", accompanied by a complete lack of reply. Asami chuckled to himself. _Such a touchy little thing_. Continuing on, he also offered "...or, we can enjoy a midnight picnic at the park around the block..." Still, no sale. Asami sighed, beyond amused to actually be working for someon's company for once. "Fine, the bus shelter under the street light it is."

Opening the car door, the big man turned and picked up one of the food packets and offered it to the boy standing outside. The blond moved forward tentatively, took hold of the proffered bag and quickly stepped away. Asami ignored that patent show of distrust which secretly irked him a bit, and moved out of the car to give himself better access to the food on the seat beside him. He felt rather than heard the boy move close to him again as he bent to the front seat, and rather wondered at the fact he didn't feel any kind of threat at the other's proximity to his open back. Taking hold of the next bag, he partly withdrew from the car to move his arm backwards and handed the bundle off to his dinner guest. It was just after he released custody of the package to the boy that he sensed something was off.

Glancing over his shoulder, ready to defend himself, he saw that he was alone. Pulling back to stand up, he looked about him and found himself abandoned on a deserted sidewalk. Surprised, he saw the slightest hint of movement on the seat of the Beamer in the periphery of his vision. Turning his head, he just caught the four pack of beer cans disappearing into the shadow slanted across the seat. Blinking in disbelief, he bent forward into the car once more and felt the slightly cooled spot on the leather where the beers had rested only a moment before. Running his fingers across the spot, he then rubbed his fingers together and confirmed he felt the dampness of the condensation the cooled cans had left behind. As he started to pull back out of the car once more, he froze in surprise as without warning, he felt a smaller hand firmly grope his undefended ass cheek at the same time he heard a laugh ring out in the darkness. "Thanks for dinner and a show! Come back any time you have food to lose!" Straighteneing up quickly, he found himself all alone in the night once more. 

 

 

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* Saito, Masayuki & Koike, Fumito. (2013). Distribution of Wild Mammal Assemblages along an Urban–Rural–Forest Landscape Gradient in Warm-Temperate East Asia. PloS one. 8. e65464. 10.1371/journal.pone.0065464.


End file.
